


Will We Be Stuck Like This Forever?

by A_God_A_Vampire_And_Two_Heirs_Of_Durin



Series: Will We Be Stuck Like This Forever? [1]
Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M, Mentions of Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 07:38:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1932342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_God_A_Vampire_And_Two_Heirs_Of_Durin/pseuds/A_God_A_Vampire_And_Two_Heirs_Of_Durin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d always been there, a blond figure sometimes just in the background until their worlds collided and they were flung together. It had always been the same; they’d always been the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Will We Be Stuck Like This Forever?

**Author's Note:**

> After all of the fluff I've written so far, this is not fluff, so I hope that you still enjoy it :)
> 
> Also, I apologise for the way in which the tenses switch halfway through.

He’d always been there, a blond figure sometimes just in the background until their worlds collided and they were flung together. It had always been the same; they’d always been the same.

They nearly always had the same names, or at least the local variations of them, and their features were easily recognisable time after time. Underlying all, even their personalities remained, in principle, intact, though experience can sour or brighten a man’s temperament both temporarily and permanently.

It was getting difficult to remember the first time they had met after this long; every time it was getting fainter and fainter but still he was there and he _knew_ that it was him.

One of the earliest times seemed separate from all of the others, in a place that he had never been able to find again on any of his travels, nor had it appeared on any of the maps that he’d looked at over the years. It was the only time they’d had different names, but they’d been together then, he knew, falling together, protecting each other until the last moment and until they could do no more.

It had been as simple as falling asleep and they’d gone together, their limbs entwined as their breathing evened out and slowed to halt.

They ended like this, every single time. They would find each other but something would tear them apart. Death greeted them like an old friend time after time after time, perhaps taking just one of them or both at the same time.

Many years ago, he’d lived by the sea. There had been a shipwreck in one of the coves, smugglers, the villagers said, and when he hurried down the steep cliff path to search for survivors, he found him lying in the sand.

His clothes were sodden and torn and there was a gash across his forehead and his side, his golden hair spread out onto the sand like a halo, curling at the edges to frame his face. He knelt by his side and hoped desperately that he was still alive, that he would be alright.

“It’s you,” was the first thing the blond man said in wonderment, his bright blue eyes dulled a little in pain as he gazed up into his face.

“It’s me,” he replied, carefully cradling him closer to his chest. There was no one else around to see him and he would take the privacy that they were afforded.

“I thought maybe I wouldn’t find you this time,” the blond said, every painful breath making him screw his eyes shut in agony.

“But you have done,” he said, “You have found me, and if only you can hold on until they bring the local doctor, we’ll get you somewhere safe.”

The blond smiled.

“You always were optimistic,” he said softly, one weak hand grazing along the other’s jawline. “Don’t ever stop being so.” He took a shuddering breath. “For me.”

There was no time to say more for he gasped mere seconds more before his blue eyes faded to grey and they fell closed, his body collapsing limply against the sand.

The other man could not stop his tears from falling; for while he had physically met this man for only minutes, he had known him for ever.

It was barely three months later that he accidentally tripped down the very same steep cliff path and was never seen again by anyone. If you asked him, he’d tell you that all he’d felt was peace, knowing that when he awoke, he’d have another chance to seek out the blond.

Sometimes they had more time with each other. They’d had nearly two years together before that awful plague had struck and taken him first, the blond having to watch him waste away before his eyes in just two days. He still didn’t know what had been the other man’s fate once he was gone, but the death of one usually meant that the other could not go on living much longer; it was just the way that it worked.

* * *

So when he is born in Ireland in 1893, he wonders where he will find the blond; whether he will be in Ireland too or further away. Yet throughout his childhood and adolescence, he sees nothing of the other man.

He joins the army when war breaks out, and there is some small part of him which considers the fact that Death follows the two of them and he is sure to find plenty of that on the battlefield. That thought alone makes him feel nauseous and he vows in that moment to try his utmost to hold onto the blond in this life; to finally find each other again and hold onto each other as they have not been able to do in a long time.

Yet the trenches are nothing like he expected, and there is certainly no sign of the blond, though he does enough searching that he’d find him if he was there.

And then on that fateful day in 1917, he stumbles across those vampires and he’s faced with a choice. He’s naïve and he’s foolish, he honourably saves his men and sacrifices himself. He’s terrified by this war anyway, and he’s worried that he’s missed the blond somehow; that the other man may have become a casualty already, and that thought hurts his heart desperately.

Being a vampire is not anything like he’d expected, but he tries to find the positives when he can, for someone once told him to stay optimistic.

The blond becomes his mission, for in nearly a century of life, he has yet to find him. Where can he be that is so difficult to find? Maybe the fact that he is a vampire and therefore immortal has disrupted their timelines too much; that now they’ll never be able to find each other.

It is that thought which brings him to that bar that night. The thought that maybe getting completely and utterly drunk will make him forget his worries about where the blond man has got to, and why he has yet to find even a trace of him.

It isn’t one of his local haunts, instead it is somewhere that he can be anonymous and get drunk in peace with only his personal demons. Still, it is going to be a long night.

But it is clear that Fate has other ideas. The bar is relatively crowded, though not packed, but none of the other faces matter anymore; they fade away into the walls of the bar and out of his mind.

By the bar is a lone figure, nursing his beer as though he isn’t entirely sure what he is doing there. He glances around as though he is waiting for someone, but he does not fit in with the atmosphere, he stands out as most definitely not a Bristol native. His eyes, though bright under the lighting, are dulled at the edges, and the vampire immediately knows that those eyes have seen far too much.

His heart leaps into his mouth at the final realisation that he’s found him. He’s found _him_. The blond hair is cropped, but not unlike a style he has had before, and while he considers that maybe he could do without the beard, it is again not something he hasn’t seen before.

He takes a step forward, still unseen in the shadows of the bar, although he’s unsure how the blond has not noticed the sudden shift in the air. His body thrums with that same giddy feeling that happens every time they meet, when suddenly a thought occurs to him.

Their timelines may have met now, but he is a vampire, and for all he knows, the blond is merely human.

This cannot work.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I may have just insinuated that Anders and Mitchell are reincarnations of Fíli and Kíli - it's up to you to decide whether these were their original lives or whether the two dwarves are just part of a long chain of lives that the pair have lived.
> 
> Also, I'm thinking of writing a sequel to this where Mitchell and Anders actually meet, so please tell me if you would like me to do so :)


End file.
